


In Through the Out Door

by Rhanon_Brodie (Glass_Jacket)



Series: Kodachrome [2]
Category: Arctic Monkeys, British Singers RPF, Indie Music RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Ass to Mouth, Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hand Jobs, Jamex AU, Kodachrome Series, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Slash, and then dicking each other, architect Jamie, but it's tasteful, english professor Alex, jamie and alex being dicks to each other, pardon the pun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 10:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4783637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glass_Jacket/pseuds/Rhanon_Brodie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Departures and arrivals, as only Alex and Jamie can experience them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All recognizable elements herein are the property of their respective owners. The remaining content is mine.
> 
> Part Two of the Kodachrome Series. You don't need to read the first part necessarily, but it might help establish a few things. Remember, this is a non-linear timeline; dates and places are mentioned accordingly.

_**Manhattan, 2014** _

Alex figured doing dishes alone at ten pm was a little depressing. Definitely dramatic. He bit the side of his tongue as another wave of anger rolled through his body, and instead scrubbed the eggplant parmesan pan harder. The bottle of white he’d chilled was now half empty, a glass at the side of the sink filled, but being drained quickly.

He dared a glance over his shoulder, out of the kitchen and to the dimly lit dining room where the tea lights he’d arranged down the center of the table still flickered. _At least I don’t have to wash the bone china_ , he thought grimly, turning back to the murky, lukewarm water. 

At that precise moment, he really hated Jamie. Alex’s entire day had been consumed with thoughts of his husband as he shopped at the Italian market two blocks over - he’d woken up with a plan, and told Jamie as he left to not be late, that he was making dinner, that they needed to have a night where it was just the two of them in their world. Alex had shopped with Jamie in mind, cooked with Jamie in mind, set the table, changed the sheets, done all of it with one thing in mind: Jamie. And Jamie had demolished the borderline romantic in Alex that dared to show its head with one quick text just before six, thirty minutes before Alex was expecting him home:

_**Babe, I won’t make it for dinner. Project went sideways and we’re on a time crunch. I’ll make it up to you xox** _

Setting the sponge aside, Alex wiped his hand dry on his shirt, and then reached for his glass, taking another large gulp. He’d left the record player spinning Richard Hawley, the backbone to soundtrack of their young courtship, and made himself remember that Jamie wasn’t trying to hurt him deliberately. Jamie was trying to make something of himself for the two of them.

It still stung, however.

The sound of the front door unlocking and creaking as it opened made Alex venture a glance at the clock on the stove - 10:27pm - and then quickly stare down at the dishwater once more, the aftertaste of the wine gone bitter on the back of his tongue. He scrubbed furiously, refusing to look up even when he sensed that Jamie had entered the kitchen. _Let him take it all in, in silence and scrubbing bubbles_. Alex fumed, wrenching the tap on high to rinse the casserole dish.

“Baby, I’m sorreh,” Jamie murmured, crossing the kitchen.

Alex tensed his shoulders without turning around and it did the trick: Jamie paused, and instead of wrapping his arms around Alex from behind, he sighed and stepped sideways, and leaned his hip against the counter so he could at least see Alex’s profile.

“Hmmm,” Alex answered, resuming his brutal - but necessary - cleaning of the already spotless dish in his hands. He’d scrub the finish off before he gave Jamie an actual word of acknowledgement.

Jamie smiled ruefully at his obvious misstep, and without thinking reached to push the long, dark lock of Alex’s hair that fell forward over his forehead as he scoured the pan in the sink. Of course, Alex flinched away and then tossed the sponge into the sink, and backed up before fixing Jamie with a hard glare.

“Three hours, Jamie.” Alex’s tone was hollow, and grave.

“Alex, I know, I’m really sorry, but with the deadline coming up, I couldn’t just leave this for someone else to fix-”

“ _Three_ fucking _hours_!” Alex snapped. “I’ve been workin’ all day on this, only to get a text from you saying that you’re needed _elsewhere_.”

It was Jamie’s turn to flinch, Alex words smarting as they impacted on heart. Handling Alex at times like these was a tricky task. Those three hours had given Alex plenty of time to stew, and now he’d reached a boiling point, and when that happened, Alex would say whatever was on his mind, no matter how dramatic or far fetched. The key was not to dismiss any of it. Jamie took a breath.

“I were needed because it’s me _job_ , Alex.”

“You were needed here because you’re me husband, Jamie,” Alex countered. “You tellin’ me you’re the only man for the job?”

“I may not be the only man, but I’m by far the best. An’ it’s my project, Alex, I’ve been working on this for eighteen months. The deadline has been getting pushed back because of material availability, and labour disputes, but with the opening so close now…” Jamie’s speech, which had risen in volume and tempo, suddenly died off and he closed his eyes with a defeated sigh. “The opening is next Tuesday,” he added quietly. “So I have to be in Berlin on Friday.” He braced for the storm he knew was coming.

“Friday,” Alex echoed quietly. “Two days.”

“Aye,” Jamie nodded. “It just got changed this afternoon-”

“Whatever,” Alex said, turning back to the sink and grasping the wine bottle there. “Dinner’s in the fridge. Me an’ me bottle are goin’ to bed.” He stalked out of the kitchen, and picked his way through the living room.

Jamie was hot on his heels, and caught him in the space between the couch and the entertainment unit. With a hand closed over Alex’s elbow, Jamie tugged the smaller lad to a halt, and then turned him so that they faced one another. “Alex,” he murmured gently. “You remember what happened the last time we fought before I left?” Jamie waited a beat and then dared a small smile.

Alex figeted, but didn’t shake Jamie’s hold off - truth be told, when he took off, he expected Jamie to come after him, like he always had right from the beginning. Others might have thought it a cruel test of Jamie’s devotion, but Alex needed to be needed, and he needed to be shown how much. He chewed his bottom lip and his shoulders sagged a bit.

_It were like a snowglobe, really. Stepping into one, in the single streetlamp outside Warrington Station, an’ we kissed, lips cold and hot at the same time, me last cigarette lingering in me hair, an’ you tasted like ale, and cinnamon. Always cinnamon._

“Dance wiv me?”

Alex blinked up at Jamie. “What?” But he was already moving across the carpet at Jamie’s incessant urging, being tugged towards the blond by sheer will, and his inability to say no to Jaime.

“I don’t wanna fight tonight,” Jamie said softly, pulling the bottle from Alex’s grasp and leaning down to set it on the low coffee table. When he stood straight, he slipped a hand around Alex’s waist, palmed the curve of his lower spine, and pulled the slighter man towards him. “I don’t wanna fight any night,” he added, searching Alex’s dark eyes. “I just want you. I’m sorry I missed dinner. But not as sorry as I’d be if I missed any part of these last few days with you because I can’t admit that I’m an ass.”

“An insensitive ass,” Alex corrected, feeling his blood flare as Jamie’s warmth pressed into him. He inhaled, catching the faded scent of Jamie’s cologne, and the smell of his skin, and though he fought to maintain his stance while being held, he couldn’t help it when, a few seconds later, he melted against Jamie, long arms going around the blond’s neck. Alex pressed his face into the side of Jamie’s jaw and sighed at the scrape of stubble there.

“Aye,” Jamie rasped, his fingers tightening on Alex’s waist. His arms wrapped behind Alex’s back and held firmly, and he angled his hips until they fit together perfectly. “I’ll spend the night making it up to you.”

“You’ve got two whole days, Jamie,” Alex murmured thickly. “An’ I plan on using all of those hours.” He realized then that he and Jamie were swaying with the soft music still floating about the room, and he closed his eyes, and could almost pretend they were back in Jamie’s flat in London, instead of their brownstone in Manhattan. Alex missed those days, the simplicity and the excitement of them, but he wouldn’t trade anything for where they were now.

“Gonna try to convince me to stay?” Jamie whispered against Alex’s hair.

“Nah,” Alex mumbled. “That’s your area of expertise.” 

+

_**London, 2009** _

Jamie hurriedly typed a series of numbers into his graphing calculator, glanced at the results on the display screen, and then compared them to his notes which were spread out on the table. With a sigh, he picked up his eraser and eliminated a cluster of lines, and then set his ruler out again, and checked the angle against his calculations. Delicately grasping his mechanical pencil, he drew a new line on his blueprints for a mock refacing of the Harrison Building which housed the Languages department, and the sat back and tilted his head, narrowing his gaze at the design.

“I fucking give up,” Jamie pouted, dropping his pencil with a sigh.

Alex snorted from where he sat watching the scene from over the top of his Byron text. “You do not,” he admonished gently.

“Yes, I _do_ ,” Jamie insisted, rubbing fingers over tired eyes. He gestured to the paper on his coffee table and explained. “It’s supposed to bear the beam that goes over the door, aye? But at that angle, we risk upsetting the flow of water from the peak, which would eventually lead to damage.” He glanced back to where Alex was curled into the corner of his couch, and gave him a helpless smile. “You don’t understand a word I’m saying, do you?”

Alex wrinkled his nose, and lifted a shoulder. “Doesn’t mean I don’t understand your frustration. Is there anything I can do?”

“Nah,” Jamie huffed, tilted his head back against the couch cushion and stretching his legs out under the coffee table. “I’m just gonna give up.”

“Stop saying that,” Alex snarked, tugging at a curl of Jamie’s hair. “I know you _never_ give up.”

“I’ve done it in the past,” Jamie murmured.

Alex snorted again. “I find it hard to believe, what with the pursuit you gave me.”

“That were different,” Jamie grinned. “You’re more than angles and load-bearing beams.”

Alex hummed and then closed his book. “D’ya want tea? I’m making meself a cuppa.” He unfolded his legs from beneath him and leaned down to steal a kiss from Jamie before standing and wandering from the living room to the kitchen.

Jamie watched him go. It was one of his favorite things to do, actually - watch Alex move. It had taken a little while for the younger man to warm up and relax in Jamie’s apartment, which, according to Alex, was almost as big as his home back in Sheffield. He’d been nervous at first, afraid to leave anything out of place, and Jamie remembered the first time he’d invited Alex back to his place that the dark-eyed lad had carefully peeled off his sweater and then folded it before setting it precisely on the back of Jamie’s couch. An hour later, it had slid off from its perch due to the upsetting motion of two grown men snogging like mad on the couch, and it had pooled on the hardwood, awaiting Alex’s rescue some hours later.

Now, however, Alex padded over the floor in bare feet and boxers, one of Jamie’s shirts hanging at the neck so that his collarbones showed when he twisted a certain way. The heat from the radiator pumped steadily into the apartment, which had led to Alex’s, and Jamie’s shedding of outer layers worn against the December chill. Of course, a few more layers had gone when they’d forgotten their reason for meeting at Jamie’s flat was to study for exams that had very little to do with one another’s anatomy, but with both of them working so hard at their jobs and their school work, they’d hardly had a moment for one another. When they’d exercised the most rabid of their demons, Alex had declared it was time for a break, and that meant pulling out books and notes and highlighters, and him pulling on Jamie’s discarded t shirt while pushing his glasses onto his face. 

“I can feel you staring from over there, James,” Alex called as he clunked about the kitchen pulling out mugs and the box of loose leaf tea he’d brought over and stashed in Jamie’s cupboard.

Jamie sighed loudly. “Just taking it all in while I can.”

Alex glanced up from the long counter which he stood behind, and gave Jamie a small, somewhat sad smile, and then looked down at the mugs on the counter. “It’s only three months, love.”

“You say that,” Jamie began, moving to his feet and crossing to the kitchen, “like it’s not that big of a deal.”

Alex shrugged, refusing to look up as Jamie approached. “We’ll both be busy in school. I’ll be here, and you’ll be in the Netherlands. You can’t really change your plans - they were in place long before I was in the picture.”

Jamie drew back half a step and studied the hunched line of Alex’s shoulder, and the hardness of his jaw and mouth. “It still bothers you,” Jamie said quietly.

“I’ll be fine,” Alex scoffed, twisting his mouth into a wry smile and moving to fill the kettle. “Beth will keep me company an’ I’ve got hours at _The Rose_. I’m certain I’ll be sitting in on Duncan’s second year Shakespearean Comedies course, so I’ll have outlines and readings to do for that.” He made a soft snort of dismissal and set the kettle on the stove, and flicked the starter for the gas burner. it flared to life, and Alex glanced back to Jamie. “I’ll be fine,” he repeated.

“Oh,” Jamie nodded. “So...like..” he began quietly, moving around the counter to linger behind Alex, who stood watching the kettle, “you won’t miss me?”

Alex lifted his shoulder in indifference, and said nothing, though his cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink.

“Not even a little bit?” Jamie wheedled playfully, wrapping his arms around Alex’s waist and resting his chin on the curve between Alex’s neck and shoulder. He dug his nose into the dark waves of Alex’s hair and breathed softly.

“No,” Alex muttered stubbornly, though he gave a soft giggle as Jamie’s fingers turned and tucked into his hipbones.

“No?” Jamie repeated, feigning hurt. He tilted his head down and rubbed his beard over the tender skin of Alex’s shoulder that was exposed by the loose neckline of the t shirt he wore. 

Alex squirmed and giggled louder this time, and put his hands on Jamie’s forearms. “Nope,” he amended.

Jamie hummed and licked a strip of skin and then blew against it as his knees pressed into the backs of Alex’s thighs, causing the younger man to falter where he stood, and hold onto Jamie’s arms tighter. “You sure about that, Alex?” Jamie whispered, rolling his pelvis against Alex’s backside.

Ale shuddered at the heat of Jamie’s breath against his skin, and he reached back, curling his fingers into the dark blond waves of Jamie’s hair. “The kettle,” Alex protested lamely, even as he directed Jamie’s mouth against his neck once more.

“Watched kettle never boils,” Jamie replied, kissing the skin under his lips quickly before pulling Alex away from the stove. He turned the slighter lad so that he was backed against the counter, and Jamie could press his chest against Alex’s.

“Ja-Jameh,” Alex stuttered, closing his eyes as Jamie’s hands roamed up under the big t shirt and skidded over the skin of his flanks.

Jamie pulled a hand out from under the shirt and reached beside him, clicking the burner on the stove off. “Don’t want everythin’ goin’ up in flames,” he rasped, pushing his hand under Alex’s shirt once more.

Alex’s reply was a groan, and he let Jamie kiss him hard, and rough, and ignite every nerve in his body.

+

“I _will_ miss you, you know.”

They lazed in the aftershocks of their sex, sweat cooling, sheets twisted, breath still trying to regulate.

Jamie glanced to where Alex had landed beside him, and couldn’t help but laugh at the statement, and the setting it had been given in. “Oh?” He snickered and rolled to his side, pushing the damp hair from Alex’s face so he could see the dark eyes crack open in amusement. “I knew it,” Jamie sighed, flopping to his back once more. “You’re using me for sex.”

“And your shower,” Alex hummed. “Beats communal bathrooms in the dorms any day.” He gave a wiggle of his hips. “Bed’s quite nice, too. You wouldn’t happen to need a housekeeper for the next three months, eh? Bring in the mail, do a bit of dusting, make the place look ‘lived in’ so as to scare off potential burglars?”

At first, Jamie didn’t say anything, and merely tugged Alex towards him via a hand hooking the younger man’s elbow. Alex murmured his approval and went willingly, and allowed Jamie to tuck him against his side. Alex walked his fingers across Jamie’s chest, sliding over the soft curls there, pressing into the collarbones before scratching through the dark beard at Jamie’s jaw.

“I wish you weren’t going,” Alex said.

“Stay here,” Jamie countered, taking Alex’s searching hand up in his and lacing their fingers together. 

“I were joking, love,” Alex stated, dropping a kiss to Jamie’s chest.

Jamie shook his head. “Well, I’m not. Stay here - why wouldn’t you? You practically live here anyway, an’...I dunno, I just...like the idea of you being here.”

“And when you get back?” Alex ventured carefully.

“Well, I’d hope you’re still here when I get back.”

Alex sighed and then pushed himself off of Jamie’s chest so that he could look him in the eye. “I mean permanently. Like. You know. Are you asking me to move in?”

“Yeah,” Jamie nodded without hesitation. He smiled.

“Oh.” Alex’s face fell a fraction, and he watched as Jamie’s smile dissolved. With a tightening in his stomach, he disengaged himself from Jamie’s hold and sat on the edge of the mattress, pulling his fingers through his hair.

“Al?” Jamie asked, sitting up as well. He put out a hand to touch the leanly muscled back, but thought better of it. He’d seen the shift in Alex’s demeanour, and knew that he was processing an answer - not interfering was Jamie’s best course of action. Instead, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed so that he sat beside Alex, a few inches between them, and let the silence grow.

“Rather soon, innit?” Alex murmured delicately. “I mean, for you to be askin’.”

“Is it?” Jamie wondered out loud. “Feels like we’ve been together forever - not, like, in a bad way, yeah? But like...I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want you to. I like havin’ you here.”

The slighter man nodded, but continued to stare at the floor. “I...I wanna say yes,” he began slowly. “I really do, Jamie, because I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Jamie blinked slowly at Alex and then took a chance and placed a wide, warm palm on the small of Alex’s back. “The only thing that would disappoint me is you doin’ summat you don’t wanna do. I want you to move in here because you want to, Alex, not because you think you’ll hurt my feelings if you say no.”

Alex’s shoulders tensed again, but he turned his gaze towards Jamie, and pushed the fall of hair from his eyes. “Why...why do you do that?” Alex muttered before worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

The blond gave him a bemused look. “Do... _what_ , exactly?”

“Like...things like _that_ , Jamie, why are you so...fookin’ suave an’ confident, an’ tellin’ me all these fings like you’re pourin’ your heart out while I can’t even form a coherent sentence to tell you how I feel-” Alex cut himself off and groaned with frustration as Jamie stared with a confused expression. Dropping his dark gaze to his hands, Alex continued. “You’re smart. Talented, funny, caring, an - an, god, Jameh, you always know the right thing to say to put me at ease.”

Jamie frowned at Alex’s confession, uncertain of what to make of it. “I...Alex, that’s how I treat anyone I care about. I thought you would have figured that out by now?”

“Me track record is _horrible_ , Jamie, so you’ll excuse me if I’m having trouble wrapping me head around the concept that you picked me. You could have anyone.”

 _But you picked me_ , Jamie wanted to say, _that first night when you called me an arsehole and you didn’t know it it was me you were referring to_. “I just want you,” Jamie said instead. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Alex sniffed, and nodded, and then shifted his eyes to Jamie once more. “Even if I have the occasional outburst?” he asked sheepishly.

“I find them rather endearing,” Jamie shrugged, moving to put his arm around Alex’s shoulders, and pressed his nose into the dark waves of his hair.

They stayed like that for a spell, until Alex shivered, and a wash of gooseflesh crept up his spine.

“Cold?” Jamie murmured, his palm gliding down Alex’s spine.

Alex hummed affirmatively.

“Wanna go indulge in a shower?”

“You tryin’ to talk me into stayin’?”

“Is it working?”

Alex giggled. “I’ll let you know in the morning.”


	2. Chapter 2

Ringing in 2010 was a quiet affair, just a small group of friends stowed in Jamie’s apartment, a countdown on the television, and champagne at midnight. Jamie was leaving in two days time to spend a few days with his dad in Liverpool before flying to Amsterdam. As he still had the last of his packing to do, he’d abstained from too many beers, while Alex indulged in far too much tequila. The younger man nursed a headache on the first day of the New Year as Jamie moved between the bathroom and his bedroom, stopping every now and then to refill Alex’s water, or to make him soup. By the time the winter sun made its descent and its last flaming tendrils spilled through the windows of Jamie’s west-facing bedroom, Alex was looking a little better than his pallid self from that morning, and was currently sitting against the headboard wrapped in another one of Jamie’s t shirts, the duvet shoved down to his hips, a book in hand. 

The record player softly spun Richard Hawley tunes into the flat, and Alex smiled as Jamie hummed along - even his humming was horribly off-key, but Alex wouldn’t have it any other way. It gave him a certain sense of satisfaction that Jamie wasn’t perfect at everything.

“Semester hasn’t even started and you’re already studying?” Jamie asked as he moved into the bedroom and opened the drawers on his dresser. He pulled out another few t shirts and tossed them into the suitcase open on the corner of the bed.

Alex glanced up from his page and watched as Jamie packed. “Think you’ll need _all_ of your t shirts in London? They have stores there, you realize.” he shot back smugly, arching an eyebrow when Jamie sputtered in protest.

“Well, obviously not all me t shirts,” he replied, eyeballing the one Alex was currently sporting. “I’ve been looking for that.”

Alex shrugged and looked back to his book. “S’mine now. Sorreh.”

Jamie huffed. “But it’s me _fave_.”

“Exactly, darling,” Alex murmured, turning a page. “The very reason why you’re not getting it back. You have to leave me _summat_ to remember you by.”

The listless tone to Alex’s words made Jamie chuckle. His packing forgotten, he crawled up the mattress until he’d caged Alex in with his arms and knees, and then deftly plucked the book from Alex’s fingers, and tossed it over his shoulder. “I’m sure I can leave you better memories than a ratty Eagles of Death Metal shirt.”

“What did you have in mind?” Alex asked, looking up at Jamie from under his lashes.

“Come to Liverpool wiv me,” Jamie grinned. “The boys are havin’ a proper send off for me while I’m there, an’ I’d really like it if you’d come.”

Alex sighed with a shake of his head. “Jameh...you know I can’t.”

“Can’t,” Jamie countered, “or _won’t_? What is it wiv you an’ me friends, Alex? I really want ya t’meet them.”

A sound of disbelief floated up from the dark-eyed man, but he said nothing, and instead wiggled out from under the covers.

“Al?” He sat back as Alex clambered around him to stand next to the bed.

“M’not good in situations like that. You know that, Jamie.” He moved off towards the bathroom, and Jamie followed.

“Al - love, you’re making a big deal outta nowt! You charm anyone, you know that, right? An’ you’re so smart, love, can hold a conversation about anythin.’ C’mon, it wouldn’t be terrible, I’ll be there-”

“Yeah, you’ll be there, wiv your ‘boys’, an...an’ your _Da_ , an’ I won’t know anyone-”

“You know _me_ ,” Jamie pointed out, becoming frustrated with Alex’s sudden swerve of behavior.

Alex’s mouth clapped shut and he narrowed his eyes at Jamie. “Never mind,” he growled. Turning on his heel, he stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door.

Jamie went after him, bursting into the small space, causing Alex to jump, and gape, and glare at Jamie.

“What the bloody fook, Jamie?”

“Don’t do that, Alex,” Jamie warned. “Don’t shut me out like that, you know that pisses me off.”

“Just drop it, Jamie,” Alex snapped.

“Look, I get it - I get that you don’t like large social situations, but Alex, m’leavin’ the bloody country for the semester. I want you to be there to see me off.”

Alex tightened his jaw and stared down at the counter top without a word.

For a few moments, Jamie started at Alex, hoping that he could somehow will the younger man to look at him - or at least speak to him. Alex’s shyness was part of his charm, but sometimes it made Jamie painfully aware that they were from two very different worlds.

“Fine,” Jamie said. “You don’t want to talk to me, all right.” Turning, he walked back into the bedroom. “Haven’t got time for this, anyway,” he muttered, more to himself.

Alex, however, heard it, and the words lashed over his tightening heart as his bottom lip trembled. Deep down, he knew the last words weren’t directed at him - he didn’t believe for a second that Jamie would be that cruel - but in the moment, Alex took them at face value. He plucked his toothbrush from the cup next to Jamie’s sink, and then yanked open the drawer on the left, finding his comb and a few other things he’d stashed there for when he stayed longer than one night. Armed with his belongings, he marched back into the bedroom and found his satchel, and dumped his things inside.

“What are you doin?” Jamie asked slowly.

“Packin’ me fings,” Alex sniffed, turning his gaze to the floor and searching. He located his clothes from the night before and, after yanking Jamie’s t shirt off and throwing it at the blond, he tugged his own thermal over his head and tugged his jeans on.

Jamie watched with a mix of confusion and amusement as Alex flounced about the flat, locating more things of his that wouldn’t even fit in the small satchel he had with him. Clearly that wasn’t the point however. Jamie followed the smaller man out into the living room, where he was perusing the bookshelf and pulling volumes off to make a neat stack next to his boots.

“Al,” Jamie sighed, moving to stand between the man and the bookcase. “You’re being obtuse.”

“So, now I’m obtuse, too? Let’s see, in the last five minutes you’ve managed to make me out to seem unreasonable, uncaring, stubborn, and obtuse. You’re on a roll, Jamie, maybe you’d like to add a few more adjectives before I’m out the door?”

“What - Alex, stop it, you know that’s not true. You’re frustrating as anyone else I’ve ever met, but that’s not grounds for you to just _leave_. I know you don’t want to talk but...you can’t just walk away an’...”

“Can't I?” Alex challenged, raising his chin at Jamie. “Watch me.” 

“Oh my god, you are _infuriating_ ,” Jamie sighed.

Dark eyes flashing, Alex dropped the book he was holding and put his hand to Jamie’s chest, shoving him backwards with a growl. “ _You’re_ the one who’s infuriating, Cook. You just don’t get it, do you? I never asked to be swept off me goddamn feet an’ put up in a castle off campus, kept warm an’ fed by your father’s money.”

Jamie shook his head and sneered. “What? What the fuck are you on about?”

Alex took a breath and steamed forward. “You can’t just have whatever you want, Jamie. I know that, aye? I learned that the hard way, an’ you just can’t seem to understand that. You’re so used to getting things the way you want them, your friends, your education, your apartment, your girlfriends, _and_ your boyfriends...christ, you can’t even make up your mind about that! Have you even told your Da that you’re dating a homo?”

As soon as the words were out of Alex’s mouth, he felt sick, and wished desperately to snatch them back from the air. He knew when pushed, he could say awful things, and judging by Jamie’s face, this was by far the worst. Alex knew that Jamie’s sexuality was still a point of contention between he and his father. The blond stood straight, and took a wary step back from Alex. Glancing back at the bookshelf and plucking a well-known book from the top. “You forgott this.” He held it out to Alex, stone-faced, eyes glacial.

Alex sagged back against the door. “Christ, Cookie, m’sorreh, please just-”

“You’re packed. An’ you’re ready to go. Don’t linger, aye?” He thrust the book towards Alex, who raised a shaking hand to take it. When the weight was gone from Jamie’s hand, he turned and crossed through the flat to the bedroom, and shut himself inside.

The anger and irritation towards Jamie that had dissipated came blazing back to life and Alex shoved the book Jamie had handed him, along with anything else that would fit, into his satchel. Plucking his jacket from the hook next to the door, he pulled it on, and shoved his feet into his boots, before grabbing everything else he could carry. He slipped out quietly, and began his journey back to campus.

+

_**Liverpool** _

“You look exhausted, Jamie,” his father, Robert Cook, greeted him.

The younger Cook had taken the train from London to Liverpool and had tried to find the sleep that had been eluding him since Alex had stormed out, but it was fruitless. Instead, Jamie had spent the last eighteen hours in fits of restless snoozing, drinking too much coffee, and flicking through bad TV while eating an obscene amount of take-away. Alex was the one who cooked.

Jamie gave his dad a wan smile. “Aye. Thanks, that, Da. You’re looking well.” It was the truth, really, and Jamie knew it had to do with a combination of his father’s rigorous gym schedule, and the organic witchcraft his housekeeper Magda concocted on a daily basis.

The two shook hands, and then Jamie took the seat he was offered, opposite his father’s desk.

“So, what has you looking so haggard? Too much partying, eh? I’m not paying for you to drink your weight in beer.”

“Aye, that’s me. Every night, at the pub. Barely makin’ it to class.”

Robert chuckled at their shared sarcasm. He knew that Jamie partying was the least of his worries. His only son was no saint, and he loved his pints, but he also had a strong ‘work hard / play hard’ ethic, and he applied it to all things. He looked at the young man a little more closely, skipping over staring him in the eye for too long - he had his mother’s eyes, and Robert hadn’t ever gotten over the sense he could feel his late wife watching him with every look Jamie gave him. Most people would find that comforting, but it merely drove home the fact that Robert had lost his one true love when Jamie had been a small boy.

“It’s a girl, isn’t it?” Robert sighed, glancing back to his computer and closing down his programs.

“Eh...no,” Jamie muttered. “Not a girl.”

Robert’s hand froze where it clicked with the mouse. “Oh,” he said, trying to sound casual. “So...ah...a bloke then, eh?” He blew out a breath and continued to stare at the screen.

Jamie watched his father shift uncomfortably. While Robert Cook had taken the news of his bisexuality with little more than a bat of an eye, he knew it still bothered his father. He didn’t feel like his father loved him any less - or any more, for that matter - but he was certain the head Cook was still confused about the whole thing. That gave Jamie a bit of comfort: sometimes, the whole thing was confusing to himself, too.

“Ehhh. An’ packin’, makin’ arrangements, registering for classes, studying for finals - they went well, by the way, should have me marks back in a few days - an’ I…” Jamie shook his head and glanced at his hands. “Joost glad to be back here for a few days before I head off, is all. Lookin’ forward to seein’ the boys.”

By now, Robert had trained his gaze on his son, and he frowned at Jamie’s tone of voice. There was something else bothering the lad, and he knew it was this boy he’d mentioned in a breath, but he didn’t know how to approach that subject. Instead, he said, “Well, I’m just shuttin’ down for the day, yeah? What do you say, wanna get a pint with your Da? We’ll go down to Devlin’s, have some steak pie.”

“Yeah,” Jamie breathed, pasting on a smile. “Yeah, that sounds great, Da. Thanks.”

+

_**London** _

For the last twenty minutes, Alex had been going through the motions of having lunch with Beth. Everything tasted like cardboard; it had been that way since he’d walked out of Jamie’s apartment two days prior. Combined with the aching twinge of his heart whenever his thoughts turned to the blond (which was all the time), Alex was miserable, and Beth knew it.

“So, Colin and I are getting married next week and we’re moving to Goa to start a juice stand,” Beth droned on, setting her fork down and waiting for Alex to show some sort of reaction.

He stirred in his spot and looked back from where he was watching the snow fall and make a mushy, sad, grey mess in the gutters. “Hmm? Did you say Goa?”

Beth sighed and reached across the table, putting her hand over Alex’s. “Alex, just _call_ him. From what you’ve told me, it was a silly fight. Be the bigger man, swallow your pride, and call him. He’s going to be flying to Amsterdam tomorrow night, and then where will you be?”

Alex pouted and pulled his hand out from under Beth’s, and then crossed his arms over his chest. “Here.”

“Here, _alone_. You’ve spent every moment with him for the last three months - when was the last time you slept in your own bed?”

“Last night,” Alex softly intoned, picking up his fork and pushing his shepherd’s pie around the plate.

“And before that?”

"Same," Alex mumbled sullenly.

Beth sighed. "And before _that_?"

Alex lifted his shoulder, but said nothing else.

“Colin said Jamie’s pretty busted up about it-”

Alex snapped his dark eyes to Beth and sputtered. “You’ve talked to Colin about us?”

“No,” Beth firmly corrected. “He talked to me about how Jamie was faring. I merely suggested you were doing just as well.” She arched an eyebrow. “Am I wrong?”

Sighing, Alex tossed his fork back to his plate. “No,” he mumbled sullenly. Leaning back into the booth, he groaned, and rubbed his hands over his face. “I fucked up.”

“Do you think?” Beth asked drily.

“You’re not helping,” Alex replied.

“You’re right. I’m not. So let me fix that.” She reached across the table and pulled Alex’s hands from his face. When she had his attention, she smiled broadly, feeling a little swell of triumph when Alex couldn’t resist but quirk his lips upwards at her expression. “Okay. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go home, pack a bag, and then go down to the train station and buy a ticket to Liverpool.”

“I can’t - I mean, with Duncan’s class, there’s questions to be written up, and I’ve got to go over the lesson plan…” Alex chokes on his excuses as Beth glares at him.

“You can catch the 9:10 and still be there just past midnight. There’s a few stops in Warrington but…” it’s her turn to trail off as Alex fixes her with an amused look. “What?”

“You looked up train times?”

Beth shrugged and suddenly became very interested in her beef stew. “So?” She shrugged. “Didn’t I say I was your best friend?”

“I...this…” Alex half rose from the booth, already mentally listing what he needed to pack for a spontaneous trip to Liverpool. “I…” He smiled brokenly.

“Go,” Beth laughed, waving him off. “I’ve got this. And be ready by 8:20. I’ll drive you to the station myself.”

“I love you,” Alex smiled, leaning across the table to kiss her cheek. “See you tonight.”

He tore out of the restaurant and booked it across campus, back to his dorm.

+

_**Liverpool** _

Nick O’Malley always had a way of making Jamie laugh, no matter the situation. In some ways, he was like Colin Mackay - tuned into Jamie’s sense of humour, little to no social filter but a good sense of propriety that resulted in charm, if not grace. Currently, Nick - or Mal, as Jamie had called him since they were children - was gesticulating wildly, cigarette in one hand, beer in another, the later spilling as he recounted yet another tale of off-roading in his jeep, his ever-present companion Kelly at his side providing the more unabridged version of what really went down: six days of constant rain pissing down, a snapped tent pole, and Nick forgetting to pack the white gas for the stove. But she smiled the entire time as she slipped the details in, her dark eyes lighting up every time they landed on Nick. And although Nick and Jamie hadn’t seen each other for six months, and Jamie was leaving the country, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Nick hung on Kelly’s every word. It made it easy for Jamie to check his phone for the eighth time in fifteen minutes, something that unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed by Nick.

“Who you waitin’ on?”

Jamie glanced up, found that more than a few people’s attentions were fixed on him, and he hurriedly stuffed the phone into his pocket and blushed. “No one,” he said, perhaps a little too quickly.

“Then who you _hopin’_ on?”

A hollow chuckle bubbled from his throat, and he shook his head, and then took a large sip of his beer. “It’s nowt, Mal,” he reiterated. 

The group surrounding him - mostly old acquaintances from his high school days and a few from the local college when he’d been in his first year - began to crow and jeer good naturedly, clapping Jamie on the back as they moved to their tables where they’d taken up residence in of _The Artful Dodger_ on that snowy Saturday night.

“Let’s get a beer,” Nick suggested, curling his arm over Jamie’s shoulder, sending a wink to Kelly.

“I’ve got one,” Jamie laughed, gesturing to his glass.

“You’ve got _half_ a one. C’mon, Kelly, let’s get him situated, aye? Off to the Netherlands, probably can’t get a proper pint there.” He ushered Jamie towards the bar, and the three of them clambered onto stools, Jamie snug between the happy couple.

“So, who is it?” Nick began after he’d flagged the bartender and ordered fresh drinks. “An’, don’t give me that, ‘It’s nowt, Mal,’ crap; I know you better than that. You’ve been clutching that phone all night like it’s got the answers to the universe or summat. C’mon. Who’s got me big, bad Jamie so tied up in knots?”

“It were a stupid fight,” Jamie began.

“Ah, starting at the end,” Kelly piped up. “Do we get a back story?”

“Alex. Twenty three, English student.”

“That must be the short version,” Nick snorted. “Okay...so...Alex...where is she now?”

“ _He_ ,” Jamie corrected, raising an eyebrow at Nick, “is back in London probably moping in his dorm room.”

“Ah,” Nick nodded. “Oh-okay, right. 'He'. Sorry about tha’, weren’t thinkin’, I just still...you know, just assume that it’s girls an’-”

“You fought,” Kelly interjected, glaring at her boyfriend. She then looked back at Jamie with a sympathetic smile. “What about?”

“I asked im’ to come wiv me here, he shut me down ‘cuz he doesn’t like social situations, I told him he were being irrational, he called me spoiled an’ then questioned my sexual orientation, so I...I told him to leave.” Jamie sighed and propped his head up in his hand, elbow on the bar. “An’ the day before I asked him to move in wiv me.”

Kelly blinked a few times as she processed the situation. She didn’t have much to go on, but she took a deep breath and tried to steer Jamie towards some sort of resolution. “Okay. Not so much a fight, but maybe a misunderstanding? Sounds like you two are really quite… passionate about the things you believe in. That’s good, though, it means that you’re not willing to back down for just anyone.”

Nicke piped up. “Wait, how come he questioned your...you know. The bi thing.”

Kelly made a sound of disbelief as she leaned forward to stare at Nick once more. “Nick! He’s _bisexual_. Sexual orientation is not a _thing_ , it’s part of someone, okay?”

Nick had the sense to look ashen as he peeked at Jamie. “I didn’t mean it that way, Jamie,” he muttered. “I just...isn’t he bi, too?”

“He’s gay,” Jamie clarified.

“Oh,” Nick frowned. He scratched his head and then took a sip of beer, still not understanding the situation at hand.

“I think Alex is in the same boat as you,” Jamie muttered. “He...a lot of the time the major point of contention when it comes to...you know,” Jamie began, gesturing towards himself.

“Bisexuality,” Kelly prompted.

“Thank you, Kelly,” Jamie deadpanned, giving her half a smile.

“No problem whatsoever,” Kelly chirped, picking up her beer.

“The problem is that people think I’m...that we’re confused. That bi people are confused, can’t make up their mind, are going through a phase-”

“But he’s gay,” Nick said.

“Yeah, exactly,” Jamie continued. “He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. It’s hard for a lot of people to wrap their heads around the fact that when someone who’s bi is attracted to someone, gender isn’t a deciding factor. I like women, and I like men, too. Their personalities don’t depend on their packaging.”

Nick nodded, a smile forming. “Ah. Okay. I think I got what you’re saying. So...you think he’s worried you’ll wake up one day and decide you like women again?”

Jamie laughed, but shook his head. “Something like that.”

“How long have you been seeing him?” Kelly grabbed his attention again.

“Bout...two months? Three,” Jamie answered.

“And you just...asked him to move in with you?”

Jamie opened his mouth to protest and then sighed. “Too soon?”

“Maybe a little,” Kelly nodded.

With a groan, Jamie leaned over the bar and set his forehead down, closing his eyes. “I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, I won’t argue there,” Nick chuckled. “But...eh...it’s obvious you feel _summat_ for him, if you’re jumping the gun like that. Have you talked to him since you left?”

“I dial his number but…” Jamie trailed off with a sigh. “I lose me nerve at the last minute. I mean...shouldn’t he be the one apologizing?”

Kelly sighed and put a hand on Jamie’s shoulder, rubbing the tense muscles. “I think it’s more about clearing the grounds of communication instead of worrying about who was right and who was wrong. If you ask me, you’re both being arseholes.”

Jamie winced, knowing Kelly was right. “So...now what?”

Kelly glanced at Nick, who was already on his phone, riding his girlfriend’s wavelength. “Train back to London leaving in about forty minutes. Need anything vital from your Da’s?”

Jamie was already slipping from his stool and pulling his coat on. “No,” he shook his head. “Got me keys an’ me wallet. Just get me to that station.”


	3. Chapter 3

_**Montauk, 2014** _

It’s not the rain suddenly falling outside that wakes him up, nor is it the chilled breeze that billows the curtains of the bedroom. It’s the pull of Jamie’s fingers that tug Alex from a dream of snow and trains. The warmth and strength of those searching digits squeeze his hip, and then turn him to his back, before sliding up his sternum to cup his face that makes him open his eyes, only to have Jamie whisper, “No, keep em’ closed.”

In that sense, _this_ is the dream, as was the doorbell at midnight last night, cutting clear through their cozy little getaway, rousing Alex from where he dozed next to the fire. To say Jamie’s arrival surprised him was an understatement; he wasn’t due back from Berlin for another day, but there he was, eyes blurry and red from lack of sleep, barrelling inside the vacation home Alex had retreated to during Jamie’s absence. The blond dropped his bag before lifting Alex up into his arms and kissing him deeply. They’d went at it right there in the hallway, not even a word of hello, and Jamie hadn’t even taken his jacket off. He’d merely slid Alex’s boxers down and off, lifted the smaller lad to the table where they kept the mail, and then worked his own trousers open. It had been rough, and fast, with Alex’s head and shoulders banging into the wall and rattling the pictures there. Their fingers locked together as they held on through the storm, lips fused as if their lives depended on it. When it was over, they’d kissed again, softer now, smiles abundant, and whispered words of greeting.

After that, Alex had led Jamie to the kitchen, knowing that Jamie would be hungry after the flight, and after the vigorous greeting they’d given one another. He’d barely cracked eggs into a bowl for an omelette when Jamie had pounced again, pulling his dress shirt from where Alex had slipped it on, licking Alex’s mouth until they were kissing once more, and then, much to Alex’s surprise and delight, Jamie was on his knees, planting wet, sucking kisses on Alex’s lower torso, biting his hips, those strong hands palming his thighs and holding him steady as Jamie worked Alex’s cock back to hardness before taking it into his mouth. He’d come with a roar while butter burned in the bottom of the pan, and Jamie had swallowed every drop Alex painted his tongue with, a grin plastered on his handsome face, and Alex’s fingers twisting into his hair.

There’d been the shower, then, with Alex on his knees and Jamie’s eyes rolling up to the ceiling, and then stairs, or was it the stairs first? The bedroom floor on the thick cream shag, and once again on the bed, before Alex had finally dragged the covers over their shoulders and warned Jamie to keep his hands to himself.

He’d obeyed, too, but for little more than an hour. As Jamie rasps for Alex to keep his eyes shut, Alex catches a fleeting glimpse of the clock - it’s four am, and his limbs ache, along with every other inch of him, but Jamie’s hands feel too good after too long, and he lets Jamie have his way because he knows it will end well for both of them. 

“Keep em’ closed,” Jamie whispers, using his hands to part those lean thighs he’s missed so much. They’re covered in bite marks and bruises, scraped with the roughness of Jamie’s stubble, but Alex had loved every second of attention Jamie had bestowed upon them, and now is no different. The younger lad groans and flexes his muscles, and shows Jamie how much he enjoys being handled. 

Once more, Jamie’s kiss drops to Alex’s mouth, but it is fleeting, and it glides over Alex’s chin, along the sharp line of his jaw, and down his throat. The longer waves of Jamie’s hair spill over Alex’s face, and he inhales, bringing his hands up to comb through the tresses again, and to pull, and hold him close, and whisper, 

“God, Jameh, I missed you.”

“I missed _you_ ,” Jamie replies, before licking the dip between Alex’s collarbones. “Haven’t stopped thinking about you since I left,” he admits, and Alex knows it’s the truth. The younger man isn’t one for admitting overtly romantic things, but he senses them, and Jamie is much more vocal about them. 

But that isn’t to say Alex isn’t vocal in other ways. Now, as Jamie’s mouth moves lower, and his lips coax one small, flat nipple into his mouth to suck softly, scraping his teeth over the peak, Alex moans, and coos, and hisses, curling his toes and arching his back, pulling Jamie’s mouth against him, loving how Jamie consumes him like he did that first night they spent together. Alex had never felt more alive as when Jamie whispered all the things that those who came before had failed to say. He repeats them now, and the feeling in Alex’s veins is like the first time. He’s on fire, he’s certain, and so is Jamie: hot mouth, hot breath, hot words, a burning ember touched to the coolness Alex often identifies with, and it makes him melt from the inside out.

He’s frantic to watch Jamie now, to feel the thrill of seeing Jamie’s mouth work over his skin, but when he opens his eyes, his breath catches as he finds Jamie watching him, smirking, and shaking his head.

“I said keep ‘em closed, Al,” he gently admonishes.

Alex takes a shaking breath and obeys, and squeezes his eyes shut as Jamie nuzzles the indentation of his navel, and follows the groove of his hips with his nose, inhaling, and sighing as his fingertips flutter in the wake of his words.

“I can’t ‘elp it,” Alex murmurs in the darkness behind his eyelids. “I’ve not seen you for twenty three days, Jameh. I’ll never look at you enough in this lifetime.”

Jamie’s heart squeezes at the admission, and he reaches for Alex’s hand, kissing the inside of his wrist before doing the same thing at the top of his thigh. “I love you, Alex,” he murmurs against the heated, firm flesh. “You can stare at me over breakfast.” Jamie laughs. “There’s nowt to see in the shadows, anyway.” His tongue traces a circle before he kisses the crease in Alex’s hip softly.

“Your eyes,” Alex sighs. “I can see them in me darkest hours, aye?” He sniffs, and asks barely above a whisper, “How do I know I’m not dreaming?”

“I love you,” Jamie repeats, shifting so that his shoulders are wedged between Alex’s thighs, moving them both so that Alex’s legs are hooked over his biceps, and his hands clutch those lean, sinewy hips. “And I’ll be here when you open your eyes, I promise.”

Jamie sets to work, his mouth a wonderful combination of heat and suction, a clever tongue, teasing teeth, and it’s all so wet, and so terribly arousing that Alex can’t help the shift of hips, or the hitch in his breath. And it’s not just his cock that Jamie is glutton for, though he’d be perfectly happy were that the case. Jamie focuses on soft skin, and dark, curling hair, breathing the younger man in, memorizing his scent, drowning in it with a smooth hum of satisfaction as he licks, and sucks, and swipes his tongue over any inch he can get at. With a lift of his shoulders, Alex’s hips tilt up, and still Jamie searches him out, teasing the more delicate areas, tasting him, hands flexing and pulling as he circles his tongue over the salt and tang of Alex’s most intimate of places. 

Alex blushes furiously, feeling a ripple of shameful pleasure as Jamie licks him where he’s still sensitive from all he’s taken up until this point, and he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes with a fluttering sigh as his cock pulses, and aches where it lays against his belly, awaiting Jamie’s attention. He can feel it when Jamie hums, too, the vibration sails through him and he winds his hips and finds himself pushing against Jamie’s mouth, needing more, unbelievably desperate for it at this hour. 

Relief floods Alex when Jamie takes the hint, and moves back up, kissing his way over pale flesh, rounded muscles, sharp angles and corners, and all the lovely bones that make up the dark haired lad. Wetting his palm with his tongue as he sits back on his knees, Jamie roughly grips his own cock and strokes, grunting with his need, his eyes greedily taking in the sight of Alex on edge. Even with all their previous activity, Alex is still blessedly tight, and it takes soft words, and gentle coaxing on Jamie’s part to talk the lad into taking him once more. He knows that when his boy is desperate and in such a state of arousal, he tenses, but soon enough it passes, and Alex welcomes the joining with a soft moan. Fingers press into Jamie’s hips, and then pull, and Alex brings his knees up, drawing Jamie as deeply as he can. The older lad has no choice but to lean over him, chests touching, Alex’s cock trapped between their bellies, and for a while, they merely kiss, as Jamie rocks his hips in a gentle motion.

Alex’s lashes flutter, and Jamie watches breathlessly as those dark eyes open and focus on him. With a playful grin, the blond shakes his head slowly, and arches his hips forward, and up. It makes Alex gasp, and when he presses his head back into the pillow, exposing his throat, Jamie attaches his lips there, and cups his hand over Alex’s eyes.

“No peeking,” he whispers, biting his lip at the whine Alex answers with.

“Jamie, please, baby, god, please, I want you.”

“Yeah?” Jamie asks softly, already winding his hips back and smoothly arching into Alex once more.

“ _Yes_!” Alex answers hotly, grabbing onto Jamie’s shoulders. His head twists on the pillow, hoping Jamie will slip and move his hand, but when it’s clear that Jamie is unwilling to budge, it sends another bolt of pleasure up Alex’s spine. He must rely on everything else but sight - scent, sound, taste and of course, touch. He flexes his fingers against Jamie’s muscles, he inhales deeply and smells the older man’s sweat and cologne, and hears the grunt that pushes from Jamie’s chest as Alex’s knees press to Jamie’s ribs with a tilt of his hips. “Jamie,” he murmurs dreamily, licking his lips and tasting the older man’s kiss. He takes a chance and lets go of Jamie’s shoulders and outstretches his arms, curling the bedding into his fists. Then, he rocks his hips again, conveying his urgency. “Jamie, Jamie, please, Jamie, fuck me, I need it. Need _you_.”

The quality of Alex’s voice, combined with the scorching grip his body has is all it takes to push Jamie into immediate action. He sits up on his knees, adjusting when Alex sucks in a breath and lets it go shakily. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, dropping a hand to Alex’s lap and circling his cock. Alex keens, and bucks, pushing into Jamie’s grip, rolling his hips back onto Jamie’s length. The younger man’s breath comes faster, his chest rising and falling with anticipation, and Jamie takes the lead, and sets a quick pace so that his pelvis bounces off of Alex’s ass with an echoing slap of flesh against flesh. 

Still he covers Alex’s eyes, and it seems to be working some sort of magic on Alex. Jamie feels it, too, finding he likes watching how Alex’s mouth opens, how his throat bobs as he swallows and moans. Jamie growls and thrusts faster, revelling in the sudden squeeze and pulse of Alex’s body as it grips him and pulls him in, and soon he’s caught up in his own running commentary of, “ _that’s it, that’s so good, innit, baby? God, that’s fantastic, feel so bloody tight an’ hot around me, Al, missed you so much, missed this, missed us, missed you._ ”

Alex’s lips quiver with every word Jamie rasps, and he nods and lets loose a ragged moan when Jamie spins his hips double time. He’s shaking with every one of Jamie’s thrusts, and it feels too good too soon, being filled and touched and _fucked_ like this. There’s something raw in the timbre of Jamie’s voice, something close to violent in the way his hips are rapid-firing away against Alex’s flesh and muscle, but it all boils down to the pulse in his veins that echoes in his balls, and makes his cock twitch in Jamie’s grip. 

Jamie hums with delight, and arches suddenly, balancing on his knees before there’s a wet sound, and the sudden, cool drop of saliva falling from Jamie’s mouth to land directly on the tip of Alex’s cock. Alex shudders and and arches away from the bed, hands reaching behind him to grip the headboard as Jamie keeps a tight hand on his eyes, and another on his cock, the thick thumb slipping around the spit and precome, slicking Alex so that his fist can work faster.

The younger lad is mumbling now, delirious with his arousal, and he’s admitting all sorts of things to Jamie, like how Jamie owns him, how he’s Jamie’s and his alone, how well Jamie fucks him, and it’s all Jamie, Jamie, _Jameh, baby, I’m gonna come_. 

“ _Oh_ , Jamie, please,” Alex whispers, licking his lips and moaning again. “Please, come wiv me, yeah? Want it - want you to come on me. Mark me up like that first time.”

Jamie chokes on a groan and nods, though Alex can’t see him. He hisses, “Yes,” and allows Alex to take over where Jamie’s been stroking his cock so that he can slip from Alex’s body. They both whimper at the loss of contact, but just as the last inch of Jamie tugs free, Alex is suddenly coming, one hand curled around his cock, the other white-knuckling the headboard, his hips arching tightly, heels digging into the mattress as he sighs and wails. 

Jamie watches, fascinated as white heat skids over his knuckles clamped over Alex’s eyes, pearly drops landing on that jutting bottom lip, and Alex opens his mouth wider, huffing and curling his tongue out to taste anything he can. It’s enough to set Jamie off, and he comes, too, the hot rush of it splashing over Alex’s body, mingling with the cooling emission of the dark haired lad. The blond growls, and shivers, and feels Alex’s fingers lacing with his, sliding through the slippery mess they’ve created, and tugging Jamie down so that he’s sprawled on Alex’s chest.

Their hearts pound madly against each other.

“Gonna let me look at ya, love?” Alex murmurs a few beats later.

Jamie blinks and moves his shaking hand from Alex’s eyes. When they flutter open, the heat in those chestnut depths is enough to make a second wave of orgasmic bliss ripple through Jamie’s balls. Sucking in a breath he holds himself up with one hand and looks down between them to where his cock is shiny, and still very much hard.

“Fuck,” he mutters, squeezing the turgid flesh with a hiss, and closing his eyes. “M’gonna go again, I swear.”

Alex wiggles beneath him, and manages to push him back to his knees, before he twists his lean body around and moves to all fours, his face level with Jamie’s pelvis. “Let me,” he murmurs, tongue already curling around the tip before he takes Jamie’s length deep in his throat. 

Jamie’s reply is a hoarse shout, followed by a hand to the back of Alex’s neck, and he pulls the younger lad off as he leans down and kisses him roughly. When he pulls away, he smiles, and directs Alex back to task. “Won’t take much,” Jamie breathes, looking down at Alex, who blinks back up at him. “Those eyes get me everytime, love”

Alex hums and throws a saucy wink at Jamie, and then concentrates on Jamie’s pleasure. He never once looks away, though Jamie’s eyes drift closed almost immediately, and his head drops back in pleasure as his fingers twine through Alex’s dark hair. This is what Alex missed the most - looking at Jamie in all manner of ways from down here, and he commits the curve of Jamie’s Adam’s apple to memory, goes over the familiar line of his shoulders, the angle of his jaw, and the pattern of his chest hair before once more concentrating on his face. Those blue eyes are staring back at him, and a second later, Alex tastes salt, and sweetness, as it spurts over his tongue in a hot, languid rush. 

Jamie turns boneless with a breathless cry, and finds Alex’s mouth again with soft, careless kisses. He can taste everything, and it makes his body flare with electricity in such a way that he presses Alex back to the mattress, and helplessly ruts against Alex’s thighs.

“Jamie,” Alex breathes, holding the older man off so that he can look him in the eye. He smiles at the expression on Jamie’s face, a mixture of completion, elation, and weariness. Smiling fondly, he rolls Jamie to one side, and pulls the blankets up once more. “I’m beginning to wonder if I’m not a dream to you,” Alex says, curling against Jamie’s side. “Are thinking I won’t be here when you wake up?”

“Shh,” Jamie admonishes, curling his arm around Alex’s back and holding tightly. “Don’t say that.” He hums then, and chuckles sleepily. “I am a bit afraid I’ll wake up still in Berlin and this….you know. Won’t have happened.”

“Shall I pinch you?” Alex’s hand slides from where it’s lazily carding through the dark curls of Jamie’s chest hair, and he tweaks a dusty pink nipple, making Jamie help, and close his fingers around Alex’s offending ones. “Ay, you,” Jamie mutters, “Stop that.”

“Won’t ever,” Alex yawns. “Pancakes for breakfast?”

Jamie grunts, already on his way to sleep. “Be closer to lunch at this rate.”

Alex shrugs and nestles closer to Jamie. “Spend the day in bed with me?”

Jamie hums again and turns so he can press his lips in a smile against Alex’s hairline. “Like I’d have it any other way.”


End file.
